Classic Story – 1973 Cadillac Eldorado – Not a Primadonna

In 2014, I decided to quit my job at Powertech, and I went to work for another restoration shop called Phoenix Studio. If it was a wise decision, I still don’t know, but it was a different experience.

A salesperson in a restoration shop must perform various duties; there is no such thing as “this is not my job,” and at Phoenix Studio was no different. One day, I picked up a phone call from a lady looking for a classic car:

Lady: – “Hello, I am looking for a vintage Cadillac, it must be a convertible.”

Me: – “OK, any year model in particular?“

Lady: – “OH, it doesn’t matter, really. The car will be a birthday gift for my husband.“

Was that an odd request? Well, yes and no. Yes, because she didn’t care about the model, as long as it would fit in the budget she gave me, which wasn’t a lot, and no because if she was serious about buying a classic Cadillac,  she called the right place.

Phoenix Studio was one of the premier restoration shops in the country. Thanks to the boss’s passion for Cadillac, the place quickly gained a reputation as a one-stop shop for all things related to the brand.

At that moment, there were a couple of Caddys for sale at the shop, but none were convertibles. I told the lady I would talk to my contacts and call her again. I went straight to the boss; after all, he knew every Cadillac for sale in the country. He wrote a phone number on a sticky note and said: “Call this guy; he owns a 1973 Eldorado, and he is trying to sell it. The car is not a Primadonna, but it might be exactly what your customer is looking for.” (Picture above).

I called the owner, and we set the price, including our commission. Then I emailed the customer some pictures and the price asked.

I called her a couple of hours later, and she seemed happy with what she saw in the email. The deal was going in the right direction; the customer was motivated by enthusiasm, and we found a classic car that fit her budget. I told her over the phone:

Me: “When would you like to come and see the car?”

Lady: “I live in São Paulo, I can’t come to Curitiba; you have to bring the car here. I will pay for the expenses.”

OK, now things have got a bit complicated. São Paulo is 400 km from my hometown, Curitiba. Logistics wouldn’t be a problem since Studio Phoenix had a truck to transport the Caddy. Fortunately, our accounting department calculated all the expenses like fuel, truck rental, and payment for the services of the driver and myself for 48 hours. Obviously, the boss charged a little extra, increasing the profits.

The following day, we loaded the truck with the red Cadillac and also a 1972 Buick Riviera that we would leave at a classic car dealer in São Paulo.

The boss was correct. The Eldorado wasn’t actually a prima donna. The paint job was not too bad, but it was far from showroom quality, and brake fluid was leaking from the cylinder and dripping onto the exhaust manifold. The problem was more than the occasional smoke coming from the engine bay, it was a fire hazard.

When we reached the outskirts of São Paulo, it was almost 5 pm because our driver took his time. He didn’t want to drive the big truck through the city during rush hour, which was understandable. So, I called a local truck driver who is well-known in the classic car/hot rod community to help us. Initially, he didn’t want to come because my boss owed him money. After I assured him that I would personally ensure that our accounting department paid him in full, he agreed to go and pick up the Caddy.

It took us 1 hour and a half to cross the city, which wasn’t that bad, considering it was by the end of the afternoon. I just enjoyed the ride since I wasn’t driving. It was an excellent tour through the mighty São Paulo City.

When we got to the place, I could confirm it was a very high-end apartment building. She opened the gate, and I drove the Caddy into the underground parkade, with the top down; after all, this is the right way to present a convertible to a client.

When I stopped the car before her, she couldn’t hide her amazement: -“Wow! This is the kind of car we only see in the movies!”

Yes, with almost 6 meters in length, this Caddy is massive, and the bright red colour with white leather interior makes it an imposing car.

Then she asked me to wait for her mechanic to come and inspect the Caddy. “If he says it is a good car, I will close the deal”.

So far, so good.

Fifteen minutes later, not only did one mechanic show up, but a team of 3 technicians arrived. They approached me, shook my hand, and introduced themselves: “Hi, we work for Batistinha; we are here to inspect the Caddy.”

And I thought to myself: “Now I am screwed. This deal will never happen.”

Let me explain: You will hardly find another place where the egos are more inflated than in the classic car universe, and egos get bruised easily. In this environment, it is easier to make enemies than to make friends. As you probably have figured out by now, Batistinha and my boss, they don’t like each other.

They jumped in the car and went for a test drive. The underground parkade was so big they didn’t need to take the car outside. After the driving, they inspect every inch of the Caddy, and while 2 of them were talking to the customer, the third came came to talk to me:

Tech: “We are sorry, dude. But we told the lady not to buy your car; I hope you understand. “

Me: “Don’t worry, I totally understand. You are just doing your job, as I am doing mine. No hard feelings.”

In the end, we all shook hands, exchanged pleasantries and excuses and we left.

Thankfully, the nasty rivalry between the shops doesn’t affect the lower level employees.

I called the boss, telling him the deal was off. He didn’t seem disappointed: “It is all right, don’t worry, Rubens, I told you, the car is not a primadonna. Just don’t bring the Caddy back home; leave it at Siciliano. He might have better luck selling it.”

He was talking about João Siciliano, one of the most traditional classic car dealers in the country. João is a nice guy who didn’t mind opening his shop at 9 o’clock for us to leave the Caddy. Before pulling it into the shop, I drove the Caddy around the block, top-down, feeling like a mafia guy. That was the last time I saw the “Primadonna.”

We returned to the location where our truck was parked, loaded the Riviera onto the town truck, and the driver would drop it off at Siciliano’s shop the next day.

I was tired and starving; it had been ten hours since my last meal. Thank God our driver chose an excellent gas station to park at, with a good restaurant and a clean hotel to spend the night. I asked for rice, beans, steak, and fries. Good Lord, that was a meal to remember.

We talked a lot about the 1973 Eldorado, but here are some details that will make you acquainted with the machine.

It is a big car, with almost 6 meters in length and also pretty heavy with 2.3 ton (5092 lbs). It is powered by a massive 8.2 liter V8 (500 CID) that had been choked by the analog anti smog devices to a meager 235 HP.

Interesting fact, the Eldorado is a front wheel drive car, a detail that I didn’t know back then. I guess we never stop learning.

The deal didn’t happen, and I didn’t get my commission, but it was an interesting experience. It became another good story from the time when I was involved with classic cars.

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